


A Nightingales Croon

by LeannieBananie



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Flirting, Heavy Petting, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sexual Content, Smut, Spoilers, Swearing, Teasing, They're basically horny teenagers, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-29 12:19:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8489422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeannieBananie/pseuds/LeannieBananie
Summary: They haven't seen each other in years and the temptation is just too great.*NSFW Chp 2*





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> No sex, just heavy petting because I'm trash.  
> **Update: Chp 2 is a smutty version.**
> 
> Set during "The King is Dead -Long Live the King." I don't even think this really counts as a spoiler or if this even is considered explicit.
> 
> Also, the conversation between the guards is hysterical.
> 
> Comments and kudos keep writers motivated so leave 'em if you liked it and holler if you see any mistakes! Enjoy!

Yennefer was secretly thrilled that Geralt had listened to her for once, the stark black of his Nilfgaardian outfit emphasizing his broad shoulders and muscular thighs, even if he did look uncomfortable and endearingly grumpy. He had even visited the barbers, his hair still slightly damp and beard freshly trimmed and he smelled clean, unlike when they had met in White Orchard. Not that she always minded, only Geralt could somehow manage to make the scent of sweat and horse appealing. 

But this was a side of him she didn’t often see, not for lack of trying, but such opportunities were few and far between at Kaer Morhen and his hatred for new tunics was something she was well acquainted with. So all in all, it was nice to see him like this, bedecked in silk and sullenly defending her honor and it was nice to have him by her side again. Even, possibly, in her bed if time allowed it. 

It had been far too long since she had felt him against her, hot and hard and demanding. An eternity since she had raked her nails over the myriad of scars covering his back, stifling moans against corded muscle. The soft thud of his boots on the floor jarred her from the tousled, intimate image in her mind and Yen was grateful that he was behind her, because he missed the blush that swept across her cheeks at the thoughts that bombarded her. Now was _not_ the time, she reminded herself sternly, refocusing in time to hear the guards around the corner. 

“Footsteps!” She whispered, halting him with a hand across his chest. “Guards. Hide behind the tapestry.” 

Crowded into the corner, Yen was aware of the guards trudging up the stairs and mindful of their precarious position, but Geralt’s proximity was the ultimate temptation and it overrode any lingering self-control or sanity she had. The present danger before them faded to the back of her mind when she felt his breath huff along her ear, sending shivers down her spine and making her breath catch. She could feel the weight of his gaze on the top of her head and the heat of his body radiated against her back, making her skin prickle with sweet anticipation. Biting her lip she leaned back slightly, pressing her rear into his hips, hissing when she met the hard ridge of his erection. 

The roar of blood in her ears was as intoxicating as the flood of heat that swept her body at her discovery, leaving her flushed and needy. Arousal pooled between her legs, hot and slick and she knew he knew –his witcher senses missed nothing. It made her tremble and he soothed her by sliding a hand along her side, stopping under the sensitive curve of her breast. Eagerly she arched her breast towards his hand, nipples erect against her satin blouse and Geralt rewarded her by flicking the nub with his thumb. A quiet gasp left her lips at the sensation and she nearly yelped when his teeth nipped at the shell of her ear in reprimand. 

He squeezed her side in warning and she squirmed helplessly against him, every nerve clenching at his firm grip and the delicious rasp of his beard as he explored of the skin of her jaw. He nosed her hair out of the way, carefully kissing his way down her neck, stooping slightly to lick at her pounding pulse. She clutching uselessly at his tunic, anchoring his hips to hers, fighting back a breathy moan when he suckled at the soft skin there, surely leaving a mark that she would have to punish him for. 

Determined to torture him as well, she ground against his length, rocking along the hardness until his hands ruthlessly gripped her hips, putting a rough end to her teasing. Disgruntled, she nearly whined aloud, tossing her head back against his shoulder to glare up at him. Her eyes instantly fell to his lips, pulled into their typical frown, but then their eyes met and she was startled by the expression she found in his normally stoic gaze. There was lust and amusement yes, but also affection and his lips quirked ever so slightly at what he saw in her eyes. 

Probably too much, damn him, she thought without heat. 

Both of them releasing a pent up breath they cautiously relaxed into each other’s arms, Geralt’s wrapping around her waist to pull her flush with him in a soft swish of silk. They stayed thus until the guards moved on, their in-depth discussion of birds and their respective songs fading down the hallway. Slowly she pulled away, smoothing her hair as she stepped out behind the tapestry, Geralt close behind, tugging roughly on his tunic. He raised an eyebrow at her smug expression, a smirk on his own lips. 

“That was close.” Yennefer merely laughed, the sound sultry and pleased even to her ears as she continued down the stairs, confident that he would follow. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Same beginning, but a very different ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW, more explicit version of chapter 1
> 
> Kudos and comments are what keep writers motivated so leave 'em if you liked it! And holler if you see any mistakes, this is the first smut I've written in a while.

Yennefer was secretly thrilled that Geralt had listened to her for once, the stark black of his Nilfgaardian outfit emphasizing his broad shoulders and muscular thighs, even if he did look uncomfortable and endearingly grumpy. He had even visited the barbers, his hair still slightly damp and beard freshly trimmed and he smelled clean, unlike when they had met in White Orchard. Not that she always minded, only Geralt could somehow manage to make the scent of sweat and horse appealing. 

But this was a side of him she didn’t often see, not for lack of trying, but such opportunities were few and far between at Kaer Morhen and his hatred for new tunics was something she was well acquainted with. So all in all, it was nice to see him like this, bedecked in silk and sullenly defending her honor and it was nice to have him by her side again. Even, possibly, in her bed if time allowed it. 

It had been far too long since she had felt him against her, hot and hard and demanding. An eternity since she had raked her nails over the myriad of scars covering his back, stifling moans against corded muscle. The soft thud of his boots on the floor jarred her from the tousled, intimate image in her mind and Yen was grateful that he was behind her, because he missed the blush that swept across her cheeks at the thoughts that bombarded her. Now was _not_ the time, she reminded herself sternly, refocusing in time to hear the guards around the corner. 

“Footsteps!” She whispered, halting him with a hand across his chest. “Guards. Hide behind the tapestry.” 

Crowded into the corner, Yen was aware of the guards trudging up the stairs and mindful of their precarious position, but Geralt’s proximity was the ultimate temptation and it overrode any lingering self-control or sanity she had. The present danger before them faded to the back of her mind when she felt his breath huff along her ear, sending shivers down her spine and making her breath catch. She could feel the weight of his gaze on the top of her head and the heat of his body radiated against her back, making her skin prickle with sweet anticipation. Biting her lip she leaned back slightly, pressing her rear into his hips, hissing when she met the hard ridge of his erection. 

The roar of blood in her ears was as intoxicating as the flood of heat that swept her body at her discovery, leaving her flushed and needy. Arousal pooled between her legs, hot and slick and she knew he knew –his witcher senses missed nothing. It made her tremble and he soothed her by sliding a hand along her side, stopping under the sensitive curve of her breast. Eagerly she arched her breast towards his hand, nipples erect against her satin blouse and Geralt rewarded her by flicking the nub with his thumb. A quiet gasp left her lips at the sensation and she nearly yelped when his teeth nipped at the shell of her ear in reprimand. 

He squeezed her side in warning and she squirmed helplessly against him, every nerve clenching at his firm grip and the delicious rasp of his beard as he explored of the skin of her jaw. He nosed her hair out of the way, carefully kissing his way down her neck, stooping slightly to lick at her pounding pulse. She clutching uselessly at his tunic, anchoring his hips to hers, fighting back a breathy moan when he suckled at the soft skin there, and probably leaving a mark for all to see. 

Determined to torture him as well, she ground against his length, rocking along the hardness until his hands ruthlessly gripped her hips and he spun them so quickly she was positive the tapestry moved behind them. Geralt didn’t stop, instead he pushed her roughly up against the cold stone wall and yanked her dress around her thighs, exposing her to the cold castle air. He hadn’t worn his gauntlets and Yen reveled in the touch of skin on skin, his calloused fingers warm as they grasped the soft flesh of her thigh, hiking the leg around his waist while the other hand delved carelessly past the lace of her undergarments. 

“Geralt!” She whispered sharply, yanking on the collar of his tunic threateningly. “These are made from lace from _Vizima_! They’re worth more than your horse.” She only had a split second to admire his uncharacteristically boyish smirk before he shrugged and ripped the delicate lace with the flex of his wrist. 

“Sorry.” 

Her shriek of outrage was lost when his mouth crashed against hers, their tongues entwining sinfully as his fingers deftly found her heat. She was almost embarrassingly wet, his fingers slipping easily along her slit, electrifying the sensitive flesh there as his fingers sought out her center of pleasure. He circled her clit mercilessly and she bit his lip in response, laving the tender spot with her tongue. It made him growl against her mouth, the fingers of his free hand digging almost painfully into the curve of her waist and whatever else she might have done or said was lost in a throaty sob, her entire body going rigid, then limp as he pressed a finger into her. 

Yen clung to his shoulders, head falling against the wall, and the knee wrapped around his waist slipped, further opening herself up to him. Geralt hummed in appreciation, increasing his pace and pressing against the delicate bud as he continued to fuck her with his finger. Searing pleasure coursed through her body when he added a second finger, curving them to rub along the magical spot inside of her, making her hips jerk every time he drove his fingers into her. It left her a weak, quivering mess, desperate for release from the pressure pooling between her thighs and completely at the mercy of the delirious ache inside her. Every part of her yearned for the violent, exhilaration rush that was right at her finger tips; she could nearly feel it, coiling and winding under her skin, the frantic want making her beg, 

“ _Geralt_ , please.” This time his name was a choked cry, her hips rocking down to meet the upward drive of his hand and she nearly screamed in frustration when he pulled away with a curse, until she realized that he was fumbling with his trousers. She quickly shoved his clumsy hands away and undid the complicated Nilfgaardian ties, both of them moaning when she wrapped her hand around the stiff length of his erection. 

“Y-yen.” He groaned, dropping his forehead against hers, his cat eyes nearly glowing with hunger in the gloom of the hall. Yennefer could feel the tension rolling off him, desire so thick it was evident in the way he held himself, every muscle drawn taut and jaw clenched. His face was harsh, almost angry as she stroked his shaft, his breath coming in ragged pants when she squeezed. All he needed was a little push to break the thread that held him check and she provoked him with a firm grasp and a slight twist of her wrist –it never failed to drive him wild– while she slid her thumb over his head. It had the anticipated effect and with a grunt Geralt used his witchers strength to lift her up and in one swift move lowered her so that she was impaled on his cock. 

Gasping, she struggled to accommodate his girth, it _had_ been too long. It was a delicious stretch with a hint of pain that had her wriggling against him, biting her lip, breathless from the force of the lust pounding through her veins. She was pitifully aware of the wet, throbbing arousal in her core and her nerves were tattered from her intense need to come. He held her like that, writhing, pinned against the wall intimately by his hard length and the hands cradling her ass. 

When he finally started to move they both cried out, heedless of the noise they made as he thrust his hips forward, slamming into her again and again and again. Each rough determined slid of his shaft against her inner walls made her whine, filling her savage satisfaction and intensifying her pleasure so that she practically vibrated with it, arching away from the wall and clutching at his hair with frantic hands searching for an anchor. Together they chased that final rush of ecstasy, each thrust pushing them closer to the edge, hands grappling with flushed flesh, mouths clashing in a tangle of teeth and tongue, breath mingling with moans and cries of passion. It took less time than it might have, had they been in a bed, but he swirled his thumb over her clit, stimulating the bundle of nerves while burying himself in her one last time before the overwhelming sensations sent them both flying. 

Her body burned and she saw stars, everything tingling from the bliss coursing through her. It was a rush, primal and fiery and it seemed to singe her very soul, leaving her weak-kneed and emotional. She blinked back tears, hiding her face in Geralt’s shoulder as he dropped her legs and kept her from falling when she tottered. He kept her crowded against the wall, bracing one arm against it as he buried his face into her hair and attempted to regain his composure. Slightly more put together Yen snuggled into his chest, ignoring the uncomfortable wetness between her thighs and pressing a soft kiss to the bearded underside of his jaw. She was sure that her skin was red and inflamed from his facial hair, but it made her grin when she thought of the looks they would get when they returned to the banquet. 

“What’s so funny?” He grumbled, straightening enough to look down at her. She smiled coyly, already stepping away to rearrange her dress and fix her snarled hair, tossing her reply over her shoulder. 

“Oh nothing, but do hurry up Geralt. We’ve wasted enough time here.” 

“Wasted!?” Geralt reached out to grab her, but Yen danced out of reach, a flirtatious grin on her lips and laughter lighting up irresistible violet eyes. He narrowed his eyes at her and roughly adjusted his own tunic, tucking himself back into the constricting trousers with a frown before hastily shoving the tapestry aside to follow her. He paused at the top of the stairs and watched her glide away, black silk twitching over the tempting curve of her ass, glossy midnight locks brushing against her shoulders, and he felt affection – _love_ –, contentment, and exasperation in equal measure, but he expected nothing less from her. After all she was Yennefer of Vengerberg and nothing with her was ever simple or easy, not that he would have it any other way. 


End file.
